Curl Up to God

Dingo

I have Indy on my lap as I sit here with my morning cup of coffee.  I used to make fun of the crazy dog owners out there, until Indy came along. Now I understand how insane one can be with owning a dog. Or, the dog owning the insane owner. I'm perfectly crazy about my dog.  I think because he takes me out of my day and brings me so much joy and sense of well-being.  It truly amazes me.

No matter what I have planned or not planned for the day, Indy always looks at me with the same pure love and adoration that only a dog can have for its owner.   Tail wagging, he looks at me like he discovered an entire mountain of Dingos.  Dingos are these little rawhide bones surrounding an interior jerky middle. I call them crack for dogs. They go nuts for these things. And when they actually have one in their possession, the world and their owner, disappear.  It's all about the Dingo. Indy has one every evening with his dinner and it brings me enormous joy to see him chew on that Dingo. The end of his day culminates in the perfect fusion of food and pleasure and a sort of .....well......doggy meditation.

I'm not really sure what my Dingo is.  I think that's what I'm trying to figure out.  The sort of constant, reliable element of my day that brings me perfectly into the moment. A fusion, perhaps, of bliss and the now.

I search, daily.  I long for someone to actually just bring me the Dingo. It would be so much easier that way.  Every day I could go to the same place, at about the same time and there the Dingo would lie. For me to chew on and enjoy.  And, the supply would be endless.  I'm completely unaware of how many Dingos there are in a week or how often they need to be replenished.

I just go to where the Dingo presents itself and wait.

And the Dingo always appears. 

I think Indy should start his own little meditation center...or, religion.  Once when I was walking down the street in New York with Indy, we approached a corner where a young couple was waiting for the light to turn (or really, until the traffic gave them the window to cross). The husband, or boyfriend, took one look at Indy and said,"He's like a little buddha-dog."  I looked at him and smiled. 

Yes, he's my little buddha-dingo-dog-Indy. 

Indy

He's the best dog in the world really.  I got him two years ago from the SPCA. I will tell you the story the same way that I do to Indy every night when we have Bedtime Stories with Indy.  (I'll let you decide if I'm kidding or not). ;)

This is how Mommy found Baby. (Mommy's nickname for the dog, Indy. ....no, I already know.  I tend to go back and forth between his real name and his moniker.  With regard to the latter, you don't need to point out the obvious).

Once upon a time there was a little baby and his name was Indy. And Mommy was on her way to Pet Smart to buy some doggy bowls (so that Mommy could at least begin the process of creating space in her life for a dog), when SUDDENLY Mommy's car was taken over.  Instead of driving into Pet Smart, Mommy kept going another mile and pulled up into SPCA parking lot. Mommy pulled the car right up to the front door and said to herself, "I'll go in for just a few minutes and make one round. If I don't see my baby, then I'll leave."

So Mommy walked all the way around the shelter, past the big huge dogs, barking and scratching at their cages, and through the area where the mid-size dogs were kept. No baby.  It was very sad. Mommy realized that there were so many dogs in need of a Mommy or Daddy or both or different variations, that it was all Mommy could do from petting all of them. However, Mommy continued walking toward the small dog area and slowed down as she looked into each of the cages. Still no baby.  Mommy continued all the way around the circle, until she got to the very end and that's when she saw BABY!!

Mommy started to hyperventilate.  Baby was shaking and crying and seemed so out of place. It was as if Mommy and Indy both knew this was an EXTREME example of transition and time to move on.  Mommy knew that Indy was locked up in that little cage after embarking on some true heroic journeys. It was love at first sight.  Indy had the biggest, brown eyes, lined in almost a dark espresso liner, sandy blond scruffy fur, and the sweetest most gentle face on any dog she'd ever seen.  Baby couldn't have been more than 12 pounds and looked at Mommy  with such a piercing plea of help that Mommy ran to the front desk and practically yelled, "Excuse me! Excuse me! Hi! I know I'm a little crazed right now but I found my dog. And... right. Okay. Hang on. Let me take a breath...... Okay. And so can you please tell me if anyone has taken the little dog named Benji in cage 1812? Even if someone has, he's my dog. I've waited for two years for him. His name says Benji above the cage, but really his name is Indy.  Also, he's like a little baby. Very chilled out and easy to cuddle with...I can tell. It's just like I ordered."  The nice person behind the desk,without missing a beat or romotely judging Mommy said, "Oh yes! Benji! Isn't he adorable? He just came in and we really don't know much about him.  No one has a hold on him. Would you like to play with him?"

Mommy practically screamed, "Yes!" and the nice person behind the desk was kind enough not to roll her eyes at crazy, lunatic Mommy. 

So Mommy waited in the playroom for Baby.  Mommy couldn't believe that FINALLY she was to hold her little Indy.  As soon as Baby came in, he took a running leap onto Mommy's lap.  Even though Indy was all scroungy and shaking, Mommy knew Indy was special. (So did the six to eight other people who were looking in the window and exclaiming how cute you were. Mommy got extremely protective. One woman in particular mentioned that you weren't there at the shelter the day before and must've just came in). Mommy knew why she felt such a pull to the shelter.  And, of course, Mommy knew at this point in time that no one was bringing Baby home except for Mommy. No way at all!

Mommy reluctantly returned Indy back to the nice SPCA person and went to the front to fill out adoption papers.  Apparently, from what they knew, Baby was a year and a half, extremely neglected, and escaped from his previous owner's backyard by digging underneath the fence. Very Shawshank Redemption.  Mommy also had to promise to nurse Baby back to health because he had advanced heartworm. 

Mommy brought Baby home, put him in the tub (because he was very very dirty) and made him soft and cuddly. Then Mommy and Indy cuddled, fell asleep and lived happily ever after.

The end.